


A Grey Sea of Eucalyptus Leaves

by out_there



Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You never said what you did," Alex says, "to be sent here."<br/>(Colonial AU, set in Australia around 1820. For Isagel.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Grey Sea of Eucalyptus Leaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isagel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isagel/gifts).



Alex has developed a certain affection for the dusk here. He can stand with his back against the wooden slats and stare out at the horizon, the bush fading into the distance, blurring into a grey sea of eucalyptus leaves catching on the last of the sunlight. If he stared in another direction, he would see the silhouette of distant mountains but here the land is flat, all merging into the straight lines of a distant horizon. 

It reminds him of being at sea and looking at the point where the ocean met the sky, feeling insignificant; an ant, tiny compared to the scope of the world. On board a ship there are always men, there is always movement. There are calls and yelling across the deck, sails to be hoisted and anchors to be checked. There was the noisy, busy thrum of life but here, there is only him and the stark calling of the birds.

And then he hears footsteps.

"Do you know much about farming?" Michael asks, coming to lean against the wall beside him. There is nothing indecent, there is space between them, and yet there is something in Alex's chest that grows tight at the nearness of Michael. Part of him feels as if they could be the last two men on Earth; he does not find that thought at all unpleasant.

"I know what every seaman knows," Alex says, and waits until Michael looks at him and raises a questioning eyebrow. "That farmers do it."

Michael smiles, a quick sharp thing. "I talked to a few men in town. Might need to learn."

"I have the funds to buy food."

"But if the rains don't come, no one will have enough to sell."

Alex nods and turns back to the sunset. Watches the pink sky shadow into violet, the edges of deep navy creeping across the heavens. He has a 100 acres to his name, two decades service in his majesty’s navy, and the indenture servitude of a convict. There have been more auspicious starts. "You never said what you did," Alex says, "to be sent here."

"I stole money." Michael shrugs. He adds, "From a church collection."

"You'd have to do it in front of a priest to be caught," Alex says, thinking aloud.

"I did."

Alex stops, looks at him, but Michael seems in all seriousness. "A crime like that seems as if you're asking to get caught."

"Maybe it didn't happen like that. Maybe I played a game of cards and got lucky. Won four pounds and a watch. And maybe the gentleman involved later accused me of stealing it and transportation was considered a mercy."

"Is that what happened?"

Michael swallows. Alex only catches the edge of the movement; the dark has stretched too far across the sky and there isn't enough light to see anymore.

"Not to me."


End file.
